Waltzing with the Wrackspurts
by VictoryNike
Summary: Neville and Luna fall in love in the whimsical, crazy way only they can, with a little help from one crazy Wrackspurt.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything but the plot. So yeah. I'm getting kinda tired of these disclaimer thingies.

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A round faced black haired boy stood alone on the dewy grass of the Quidditch pitch. The night was turning to dawn, the sky streaked with the first rosy pink tendrils of dawn. Low hanging clouds floated on the horizon over the Forbidden Forest. The breeze ruffled his hair slightly. He sighed deeply and stared toward the horizon, trying desperately to remember, but nothing came.

"Neville? Is that you?" behind him, a voice called his name, startling him out of his thoughts.

He jumped and turned to see her, the girl who had called his name.

"Oh hi, Luna," he said to her. She smiled. Her waist length, dirty blond hair cascaded to her waist.

Suddenly Neville realized he was still in his pajamas. Even worse, those pajamas just so happened to be footed and covered with Quaffles. He blushed. What kind of self respecting sixteen year old wore footed pajamas? He really should have remembered that before he came out here. Of course, he had never dreamed anyone would find him this early in the morning.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, to cover his embarrassment.

"Daddy says sunrise is the best time to see Wrackspurts, even without Spectrespecs." she said in her dreamy voice.

According to Luna, Wrackspurts were invisible creatures that floated into a person's ears and made their brain go fuzzy. That was just one of the reasons people thought Luna was crazy. On the other hand, Neville admired Luna. He respected how she didn't feel the need to be like everybody else, and she was absolutely happy that way. She always seemed to be wrapped up in her own thoughts and dreams, it was almost like she lived on another level entirely, separate from everyone else. Neville supposed her abstract way of thinking intimidated people a bit.

Rather like himself, Luna would never be completely accepted by everyone else, but she didn't care. Neville wished he could be like her, courageous enough to be different and distracted enough to not care.

At the moment, Luna was gazing into the sunset with a look of concentration on her pale face, the rosy light reflected in her silvery eyes. "I think I'm starting to feel my brain go fuzzy," Luna breathed softly. "We should be able to see them any minute."

Neville stared at Luna. She was pretty in her own way, he thought. The first rays of the sun glinted off her dirty blonde hair and gave the impression that she stood in a halo of light.

Suddenly Luna turned away from the sunrise and toward Neville. "You never told me why you are here, Neville,"

Neville stuttered incoherently. He didn't want anyone to know the truth. It was more embarrassing than his footed pajamas and more painful then a knife through his heart. Somehow, the innocent concern in Luna's large gray eyes made him tell her, "I'm trying to remember my parents,"

Luna's eyes widened a bit in sympathy. Before he knew it, everything came tumbling out of him. "I mean, I want to remember them like they were, before the Lestranges tortured them till they became... you know..." Neville trailed off, downcast.

Neville had spent countless hours flipping through dusty albums with pictures of his parents. Every photo showed a couple full of life and energy. He just couldn't reconcile the wasted people in the St. Mungo's ward with the happy, laughing couple in the photos. So Neville had taken to coming down to the Quidditch pitch in the mornings, where he could be alone, away from the snores of his roommates, to search through his memories for his parents. He never seemed to be able to find them.

"I know what you mean," Luna said, and Neville could tell by the look in her eyes that she really did. "My mother died six years ago. Sometimes I feel like I can't remember her perfectly. I'm always afraid that I'll forget something that-"

"-You might want to remember." Neville finished for her.

They stared at each other, and for once, Neville felt as if there was someone else who understood him perfectly, like he had found another piece of himself he didn't know existed.

Neville saw the sadness in Luna's face and wished he could comfort her, but he didn't know how. He had never been confident or suave. Neville had always been the nervous, forgetful boy whom everyone knew as the idiot who had left a scrap of parchment with all the passwords to Gryffindor Tower lying around for Sirius Black to find in his third year. Impulsively, Neville reached for her hand.

As his pudgy palm closed around Luna's small fingers, he hesitated, wondering if Luna would pull her hand away or leave. Instead, he felt Luna's slender fingers thread through his own. She smiled through the tears gathering in her eyes, just as the sun peeped over the horizon, bathing the two of them in golden light.

"Look," she said, pointing with her other hand, "a Wrackspurt! Isn't it beautiful?"

Then Neville saw it. A small iridescent blob floating in the air right in front of him. More beautiful than the Wrackspurt, though, was Luna's awe filled smile. It shimmered, then moved towards him. He felt his thoughts slowly slip away from him and his brain go- well, fuzzy.

"Yup, that's a Wrackspurt, all right," Neville mumbled disorientedly.

Luna giggled. "It's coming out, don't worry,"

Sure enough, the Wrackspurt oozed it's way out of Neville's brain through his other ear, clearing Neville's thoughts. It spiraled upward, almost dancing. Luna laughed in ecstasy. She let go of Neville's hand and began dancing, too, in her own bizarre way. She moved her arms in random circles and twirled crazily around the pitch.

"Come on, Neville!" she shouted, grabbing his hand again and twirling around.

The only time Neville had danced with a girl, it had been Ginny Weasely at the Yule Ball. He had stepped on her toes a lot and gotten all the steps wrong. This time though, it was completely different. Neville and Luna spun around waltzing with the Wrackspurts to music only they could hear.

Right there, in the middle of the frosty Quidditch pitch, wearing his dad's old footed pajamas, Neville Longbottom fell in love.

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**Author's Note:** This dedicated to my good friend "Anon-ish". I don't ship Neville and Luna that much myself, but this is my take on it, if they ever fell for each other. I tried to write a little differently than I usually do, with more description and feeling involved, but I don't know how well that worked out. :P

Anyway, please please review and let me know how it came out! Because reviews make me happy :D

~VictoryNike


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